Gun Games - Faye Kellerman [13]
“Like my partner said, some things are not quite adding up. We take all crime seriously, and suicide is a crime.”
“It’s a crime in only the most technical sense.”
“That’s the LAPD,” Oliver said. “We’re very technical.”
Marge said, “We also found out some interesting things about another friend of Gregory’s. A boy named Kevin Stanger. He transferred from Bell and Wakefield around six months ago at the beginning of the sophomore year. I’m assuming that you’d still have his address and phone number.”
“Kevin Stanger.” Again, he stroked his chin. “I’m sorry. I can’t put a face to the name.”
Marge said, “Maybe you don’t know him, so I’ll clue you in to what I heard. Kevin Stanger transferred because he was bullied.”
Punsche shook his head. “If he were bullied here, I would have heard about it.”
“You didn’t hear about it,” Oliver said. “But that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”
“Look, I don’t know everything, but I do know a lot. If we knew that a child was being bullied, we would deal with the situation quickly and efficiently. We have no patience for that kind of nonsense.”
“So bullying doesn’t go on here?”
“There are cliques. Although the school excels in academics, sports, and theater arts, it’s still a high school filled with teenagers. There are popular kids and I’m sure they’re not the most gracious to everyone. There are bound to be kids who feel like outcasts. But that’s a far cry from bullying.”
Marge tried a different approach. “I’m sure you’ve got an excellent feel for your students. Right now, all we’re looking for is a couple of phone numbers. Heck, all we want is to bring a little, bitty piece of comfort to Wendy by nailing down a few details. Help us with that.”
Punsche said, “I suppose I can get you the phone numbers. Kevin Stanger may take a few minutes because he’s not current and is no longer in the computer.”
“That’s okay,” Oliver said. “We can wait.”
“If you can get us Gregory’s class schedule, that would be helpful,” Marge added.
“Surely you didn’t come all this way just to get a few numbers and a class schedule,” Punsche said.
Marge said, “Actually we did. We were in the neighborhood anyway. But while we’re here, if there’s anything else you can tell us about Gregory that might be helpful, please feel free to talk.”
Oliver said, “Things like what he did, who’d he hang out with, what clubs he was in . . . what made him tick.”
“This is embarrassing but I’ll say it anyway.” Punsche’s cheeks pinkened. “I didn’t really know the boy. I never had any cause to become . . . involved with him. Usually, I deal with problems and problem boys. As far as I knew, Gregory fit in nicely.”
“Is that opinion based on something concrete or the absence of problems?”
The VP hedged. “I’m sure I would have gotten to know him better. But when all this went down, I was . . . unaware that he was troubled.”
Oliver said, “Since you didn’t know him well, maybe you can direct us to someone who did.”
Punsche seemed bothered. “Try some of his teachers. I’ll get you that class schedule, and then if I were you, I’d just go down the list.”
Chapter Five
“I’d shoot myself if I had to be in high school for nine hours a day, five days a week.” Oliver was looking over the class schedule. “Whatever happened to creative boredom?”
“That’s why Hollywood is mostly remakes of old stuff.” Marge was behind the wheel. They had finished up with Bell and Wakefield by one and were headed toward Dr. Olivia Garden’s dermatology practice in Sylmar. “No ingenuity. And I’m not even talking redoing the classics. It’s like sixties sitcoms or Charlie’s Angels. Lowbrow stuff.”
“There I disagree.” Oliver looked wistful. “Charlie’s Angels had redeeming virtues.”
Marge smiled. “I told Lee Wang to take the Ruger to ballistics and see if it’s been used in other crimes.”
“How do you think Hesse got hold of it?”
“Beats me.” Marge’s cell rang. “Can you get that for me?”
“You could use Bluetooth.”
“So you could hear all my personal stuff? No, thank you.”
“Picky, picky.” Oliver rooted through her purse and picked